Over the swing bridge and through the park, to the best damned stifling-hot, people-packed, appetite-mocking sandwich shop we go. Would you like your cheeseburger on a normal bun or in the form of a gut-busting sub for just over five bucks? While you're thinking, close your eyes. It's easy to imagine you're on some rambling Deep South byway, hearing the sizzling grill and feeling the impotent gusts of the ceiling fans. Now open your eyes and look at that rack of homemade cakes, available by the slice. Holy mother.